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‘I’m babysitting tonight and for once I really don’t feel like it. The twins I’m taking care of are the most unruly ones I’ve ever seen.’ Windy complained out loud to her companion, completely unhappy about the fact that some kids are just too much for her to handle. 

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darlingdvck·:

“WHAT’S THERE NOT TO BE PROUD OF?” she might have come off as a little cocky ( which she undoubtedly was ) but delilah spent a good part of her adult life working on the outfits that appeared in her store – it was her life now and she absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world. “i’m a bit of a working woman now, i have to make everything i do be a little glimmer of pride otherwise, what’s it all for? i’m sure you’d understand.” 

“well, cheers to enjoying a fabulous day out in the sun with good company and a little bit of booze to go along with it.” to say she was in a spectacular mood was an understatement. she held out her glass with a charming little smile, waiting for the other to tap it with her own but not before chiming up once again – “there’s so much to do and so little time the festival feels like it’ll be over in a millisecond and i wouldn’t have done anything!”

‘Oh I can understand. Bing proud of your work is the thing that keeps you going. There’s no sense in being resentful of your own creations.’ She agreed wholeheartedly. Based on her own occasional writing and the fact that she often had to keep going just to feel like she had finally reached her best, she knew how hard sometimes it was to simply perfect her work, but in the long run all that effort was making it all worth it. It kept her going. 

She did, of course, tap the glass with Delilah even if it was already empty, but there was going to be more booze in it soon, if she had anything to say about it. ‘Well the event is not yet over. We have time, but we should probably start enjoying it now. At least all the good parts.’

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thicftm·:

               ❝ YEAH , that was probably it … ❞ He took note of her attempts to suppress her laughter , to not look patronizing to someone who uttered such a ridiculous statement. But Feliciano was alright with turning it into a more HUMOROUS conversation than an embarrassing one.❝ It’s okay , you can laugh. ❞ He chuckled , using a straw to fiddle with the milkshake in front of him.❝ I know I’m fuckin’ DUMB. It’s okay , you can say it. ❞       

‘No idea what you mean.’  She answered, still fighting off her need to giggle. It was truly ridiculous, but she herself was stronger, better than that and she was not going to give into that urge. ‘Anyways... Yeah... My dream? It felt... real. More like a memory rather than a picture created by my mind. And it actually made sense from the beginning til the end, except of course for the fact that I kept searching for a source of a silly sound.’ Changing the subject back to what it used to be helped Windy get a bit more fine. It was around that time when a waitress actually brought her her own order - apparently she hasn’t heard them call out her name. ‘Ugh... Who’s dumb now?’ She asked feeling completely embarrassed with herself.

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@WeHeartIt/entry/210647500/via/mylittlerein

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‘Seems like you’re pretty proud of your collection.’ Windy laughed alongside Delilah as the other showed her the clothes. All of those were gorgeous though, pretty much all fitting her own personal sense of style with their flowery designs and bright colours. Her father would most likely get a heart attack if he saw her wear them, but what he didn’t see wouldn’t hurt him. 

It was the festival, though, and he himself had been participating, although probably more because of an obligation rather than because of his own need. 

‘Sure, I will. I can’t wait to try some of the things I see in here on. It would be delightful.’ She answered with another chuckle followed by a quick chugging at her very own cocktail and finishing it quickly. 

“OH THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FROM MY STORE! the new spring collection, isn’t it just darling? all the different colours and patterns and what not, just gorgeous!” she happily mused. of course, she didn’t just attend the festival to promote her own line of clothes ( after all, the flower crown settled on her head and the mason jar of whatever pink liquid swirled inside ) but delilah was more than proud of her beautiful creations, giving the other a little twirl with the florals popping out. grabbing their hands, she beamed. “you’d look darling in my clothes, you know? absolutely darling, you definitely have to come by one day! but for now, we’re going to have a few more of these drinks and a few more of those lovely cookies!” 

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thicftm·:

            Distracted glance was tossed in wayward directions , Feli maybe only hearing a portion of her words before turning his head back. He looked tired , like maybe he’d been having odd dreams himself that kept him awake. But - he never thought they MEANT anything. Just thoughts in the back of his mind manifesting into their own movie to play as he slept. ❝ … Those are real , right ?? Always just thought nightingales were in works of FICTION - don’t yell at me for it. I’m just being honest. ❞

She had not been expecting anybody not to know that nightingales were real birds, but she squeezed her giggle reaction, before simply smiling and trying not to look too patronising. And looking down at others for not knowing enough was always a bit of a vice on her part, because that was a thing she did often as the oldest sister. ‘Of course those are real. Though, I think they only live in Europe? That might have confused you.’

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Won’t you tell me your secret?

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I am in love with words. They are doves falling out of the ceiling.

Anne Sexton, from “Words” featured in The Complete Poems  (via watchoutforintellect)

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diabclical·:

         ✂ ❝ oh do tell !! is it just as horrid as mine ?? ❞ grim giggled as she took a seat across and made sure her coat was comfortably set behind her. ❝ mhm, as a child. yes, a perfect set-up for disaster. ❞ she folded her hands on the table and tried her hardest not to interrupt. it was already difficult waiting for the coffee but during conversation, it was near impossible. as soon as she gathered the general idea, she busted out the theories, ❝ did you have some childhood trauma you’re not telling me about ?? or are you just a fan of ruining a perfectly devilish nightmare with signs of hope ?? ❞

The slightly crazed ideas that Grim spurred the moment it was her turn to speak, so longer surprised Windy. She was used to them already and in all honesty found them to be quite charming if a little bit funny. 

She tapped her chin with a finger pretending that she was thinking deeply about her response, though the question required none. ‘I suppose... It must have been a serious childhood trauma which caused me to develop a liking of ruining perfectly devilish nightmares. And I really hate mosquitoes.’ As a teen she tended to get too lost in thought whenever she was playing in the forest that she had scars all over her body from scratching at the mosquito bites. 

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𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 

𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓁𝑜𝓇𝓎...

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tinybelles·:

“a tingling?” tiny asked, leaning forward, her elbow in the table and her hand framing her face. “like a bell or something maybe?” the blonde had been having her fair share of strange dreams, mostly ones about flying, one time getting trapped in a hat… just weird things. “have you had that dream before?”

‘Yes, a tingling.’ To her dismay it wasn’t a sound easy to describe and she never liked the moments when she was short for words. She frowned searching her brain once more for a better description, but then she realised that it was a dream they were talking about so accuracy wasn’t exactly necessary. ‘Maybe not a nightingale, but a pretty large mosquito.’ Those were the words she settled for with a laugh, but Tiny’s suggestion of a bell made her stop once more… ‘A bell… A teeny tiny bell… That’s what it sounded like!

‘No, I haven’t had that dream before. I have reoccurring dreams, but this one was brand new and so odd, because nothing really happened in it, but the scenario was completely particular to the time when I was eleven, sleeping in the same room my brothers did and even the window was open. I mean how often do you dream things this specific and detailed?’

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‘I swear I had the weirdest dream today.’ Gwen started talking as soon as the two took a sit at a cozy cafe waiting for their order to arrive. ‘I was a child again and it was during the night, but I couldn’t sleep because something was tingling in my ear and I couldn’t locate it. But it wasn’t the sort of menacing tingling that you hear in the horror movies, you know?’ There was a pause there as she tried to form a better phrasing for what she meant so that the other could understand. ‘Hmm... like a nightingale?’

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Windy never had much against parties. Sure, she wasn’t the biggest fan, but it was a good way to unwind whenever her life got too stresful or she needed to go out and mingle with people close to her age. This particular party, though... it was boring. Not her type of music, not her type of dancing, but perhaps she was simply too tired after finishing two big projects the day before to be able to enjoy herself. 

At some point she had decided that it would be best to simply leave and stop mopping around dampening the overall mood, but as she was pushing her way through the crowd another person bumped into making her loose her balance. 

Quickly, she pulled herself upright and glanced at her offender. Seeing the distress on her face assured Windy that it was simply an accident. ‘No, that’s completely fine. I’m fine. Are you?’

Millie stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, one arm crossed over her body as if to protect it. She didn’t know how she ended up here. Well, she had a rough idea of how, but why was the more important question. She wasn’t a party person. She always made a fool of herself in public. She always said, or did, the wrong thing. 

A couple that seemed very enamored with each other suddenly had themselves pressed up against the wall right next to Millie. She stared a moment, shocked, before slowly backing away. But still, Millie couldn’t keep her eyes off the couple (were they trying to eat each other??). She didn’t pay attention to where she was going until she walked back into another person. Millie whirled around. 

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

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that’s gwendolyne 'windy' bard walking down the street, the  twenty-three year old, who looks like courtney eaton. here in apple peak, they are a student majoring in english literature while working as a copywriter. some say she acts like wendy darling from peter pan, since she can be adventurous, but also a little bit absentminded 

Here’s a little bio of my baby girl.

-  Gwen or Windy is short for Gwendolyne, which means a fair, white ring. It is a name given to her by her parents with all the intentions of having it influence her character when growing up, but it has gone a bit opposite. - Wendy is not a delicate flower that her parents, especially her father, wanted her to be. She's not a perfect lady, more suiting of a 19th century rather than the year 2018, but rather a gentle soul filled with wonder and imagination, which she uses to the fullest. She often daydreams and forgets about stuff, rather running around the forest with the fireflies than studying and looking for a stable job.

-  She is working as a copywriter – a person who creates short jingles, catchy ad lines and the ideas for promotion for small businesses, especially the online ones. She only works from her home office that's set in her room at her parents' home. To get in touch with her one must find her website DarlingAds and fill a special form. She only works on commissions as a free lancer, not wanting to get forced to work for a project she doesn't like. - But her biggest wish is to become a published writer. It is not possible as of yet, due to her inability to focus for long enough on one story and it's characters. Her head is filled with ideas, one better than the other, and she can spill fantasy at a blink of an eye, but she is not able to pour it onto paper and finish her longer projects.

-  The Darling family came from England some years ago, but nobody really remember when it was. Nobody also questions that fact, because the family has beautiful, Queen-like accents and an overall pose of a posh family. But they are not such. Wendy's father George is a banker in a private sector, dealing with the rich of the world, but he himself, along with his beautiful wife Mary and their three children are middle class at best. At least as middle class as it can be in the 21st century. He has always pushed his loved ones to perfection, a one a bit outdated too. None of the children could slump when sitting or leave the table without permission. None could play in dirty clothes and none could laugh with their teeth showing. 

-  She has started telling stories around the time that John was born, since she liked to be the one to put him to sleep. However, her wish to become a writer started after the birth of her second brother Micheal, when she was already a bit older and could understand that using her imagination for a professional life was a good idea. In high school she tried to learn as much about creative writing as possible, but it wasn't easy since her attention span is a bit short.

– Wendy is a perfect babysitter. She loves kids of all ages and is amazing with them. Very responsible too. Her brothers are the best proof of that, as she has always been the one to insist to put them to bed or watch over them when their parents went out. Except for their early life, when they used to play sword fights and pirates, there never were any causalities of their behaviour. It is thanks to them that she's able to tell so many stories, because of the countless nights when the boys refused to fall asleep without a yet another story.

 – She oozes confidence. At first sight, she's one of those accomplished young girls, who can get everything she wants, have a world fall at her feet. But in truth Wendy is scared. She's not a perfect girl that here father wanted her to be, she's not the best writer that she wanted herself to be and she doesn't think she's the best friend possible. Adulthood scares her to death and she dreads the moment when she'll have to move out of her parents' house.

– Except for her one true passion, which is creative writing, Wendy was always a good student. She had a tendency to daydream and forget to listen to her teachers, but could always work diligently to catch up with the material. However, despite her good grades, she was not the most liked student, mostly because of her lack of attention. But she couldn't do much about it.

WANTED CONECTIONS: - Peter Pan (a childhood best friend or someone who had shown up during her teen years. A complete opposite, someone whom her father doasn't approve off. - Michael and John. -

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i want to carve my wishes into the galaxies, trace stardust with my small fingertips, let my lungs inhale constellations.

i want to feel whole / a.a.m.l (via inkharbors)

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